


"Cas, Dean's in Trouble."

by castielnov4k



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 10x14, Angst, Coda, Confessions, Episode: s10e14 The Executioner's Song, Mark of Cain, The Executioner's Song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:59:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3413273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielnov4k/pseuds/castielnov4k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set immediately after ending of 10x14.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Cas, Dean's in Trouble."

The face in front of him was so beaten, so destroyed, far beyond the physical wounds. Though Castiel searched desperately - starved for the quiet solace that used to be within reach in the man's presence, when comfort would come simply from seeing his aura alive and pulsing - there was no trace of hope or faith left to be found in the face in front of him. His silent gaze mirrored that of a man on death row; wretched and resigned to his fate.

"Well, if you guys will excuse me, I think I'm gonna go sleep for about four days," Dean declared, pushing himself up from the table. Cas had known him, known the two of them, far too long to not recognise their familiar shows. The lies were not in their words so much as their actions. Dean's feeble attempt at a cheerful tone, answered by a brief chuckle from Sam's lips. The two men, who shared the strongest bond between brothers that Cas had ever come close to witnessing on this Earth, still carried with them this habit of lying to each other, and Cas had experienced personally, after a long enough period of time, how it transcended onto those around them. At first Castiel had been confused by it, as it seemed to have no effect. They always knew, instinctively and without effort, when the appearances that the other was perpetuating were phoney. But then the angel had learnt that it didn't matter. What mattered, what was important, was simply the fact that they still went through the motions, in the interest of attempting to provide some kind of consolation for the other. That took priority over everything. 

As Dean approached Cas at the doorway, Cas could discern the tired nature of his resonating footsteps. Cas forced something resembling a smile, determined to keep up the pretence that had been set by the brothers, and as he passed, Dean reached out to pat Cas's shoulder. One, two, three times. 

Cas's eyes followed Dean around the corner, and there was a split second before Dean completely disappeared from sight, where he cast a fleeting glance back to Cas, lips parted. Communicating a silent request. After a moment of confused disbelief, Cas answered by way of softening the tension in his eyebrows.

_Yes. I'll be there... in a minute._

Dean let out a quiet breath, and didn't respond in any other way before he continued on in the direction of his bedroom.

"How is he?" Cas murmured, facing Sam again. The hunter's shoulders had tensed in the time that had passed, his stony gaze directed at the opposite wall. He gave no indication of answering. "Sam-"

"Cas," Sam said lowly. "Dean's in trouble."

Cas stood there for a moment, not knowing what he could possibly say. Cain had been their last hope, their last chance at redemption. And he had provided nothing, except _something_ that Cas could sense Dean was keeping to himself. Something that had Dean slipping closer to the abyss, a stone's throw from falling headfirst, and right now Cas felt powerless to pull him back from the edge. Clearly, Sam was feeling the same, as he rested his elbows on the table, putting his face in his hands. 

"Can you - go?" Sam asked quietly, his words muffled by his skin. "I just need..."

"Of course," Cas agreed quickly, backing away. "I understand."

"Thanks, Cas," Sam mumbled uselessly. "For - everything you've done. With tracking down Cain, and-"

"You don't have to thank me," Cas cut him off hastily. "It's - not necessary." 

Sam lifted his face out of his hands, swivelling his head to consider Cas for a second. Somewhere, deep deep down, Cas could see a glimmer of something in Sam's eyes. Something light, amidst the dark storm clouds. 

"It really isn't, is it?" Sam marvelled, asking without really asking. "You really don't need thanks."

Cas felt uncomfortable with Sam's implications, fidgeting a little under his stare, but gradually relaxed when he came to realise that his gaze was empty of scorn, only wonder. 

"No," Cas conceded, eventually turning away. 

"Wow," Sam exhaled, slightly awed as he ran his hand through his hair. 

He felt Sam's eyes on his back as he left, hoping against hope that Sam wouldn't tell Dean. He couldn't handle it if... if he was the cause of the breakdown of their friendship again. He couldn't be the reason again. Without Dean in his life... Cas didn't know what he would do. Without Dean, Castiel's world was empty of colour, empty of light. Without his beacon to follow, to take his hand and guide him through the darkness, the world was confusing and alien, something that is not worth being a part of. 

In love with humanity... _What a laughable idea_ , Cas thought bitterly. Humanity was beautiful, yes; they were all his Father's creations, and true to his Father's wishes, Castiel had admired them. Had watched from afar, fascinated by their simple charm. But without Dean, humanity meant nothing. It never would mean anything again, not since the moment he pulled that broken soul from Hell.

He wandered the bunker's hallways, letting his feet fall naturally into the path towards Dean's bedroom. He paused when he reached the door, hovering his fisted hand over the wooden surface.

Cas didn't know what Dean wanted, why he had asked him here tonight. It had not escaped Cas's notice that the hunter had been aloof with him lately. The check-up calls that he received were mostly from Sam these days. When he was here in the bunker, Dean hardly looked at him, and on the occasion that he would, Dean would refuse to hold their gaze in the way he used to. 

Cas didn't know the cause of his behaviour, but it was not his place to know why. It was not relevant. His devotion was not conditional, and he would continue to serve the hunter, by his own choice, until his dying day. Whether he wanted him here or not. 

And so, Cas knocked. One, two, three times. He waited, but there was no answer. 

He wondered if the fact that Dean had requested him to come meant that he was welcome to enter on his own. Being somewhat uneducated in the school of social norms, he was unsure. After a few more moments of deliberation, his hand moved down to the doorknob, turning it slowly. He pushed open the door carefully.

"Dean?" he called, and found the hunter sitting on the floor, turned away from the door, back to the side of his bed. He was staring at the Mark, which was now throbbing steadily and casting faintly red lines along his skin. 

"Dean," Cas repeated, softly closing the door behind him. Dean startled a little at the sound, seeming to be pulled out of a trance of some sort.

"Oh, hey," Dean stammered, standing up and nervously dusting off his jeans. 

"Are you - okay?" Cas inquired, internally chastising himself for the pointless words. 

"Great," Dean retorted harshly. "Yeah, I'm frigging jumping through hoops."

After his words, he pinched the area between his eyes, sighing. "I'm sor-"

"Don't be stupid," Cas interrupted, shaking his head. He eyed the Mark of Cain, feeling the power from what was left of his grace rushing to his fingertips, positively aching to flame out attempting to blast the red Mark off of the sun-kissed skin. The grace boiled with loathing under his skin at the very sight of Hell's mark, at its visible influence coursing through his hunter's veins, slowly changing everything. Threatening to take his warmth, his humour, his spark, his green. Threatening to take away his predisposed determination to fight the dark in the world, his gentle nature he quietly administered around victims, his dedication to his family that was the foundation of everything that he did. Threatening to take away everything that Cas had fallen for, that he had chosen to rebel for. 

Dean looked up, the sarcasm now absent in his features. Rather than comfort Cas, it just made him want to take apart the room in frustration. The human deserved so much better, so much more, than this miserable existence. 

"Cas," Dean uttered, fidgeting with his fingers. They fumbled, appearing as though they were looking for something to hold onto. "About these last couple of months... I'm sorry for-"

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Cas said in exasperation, stepping closer. "You don't have to apologise."

"Yes I do," Dean insisted furiously. "You don't deserve it, Cas, any of it. After all you've done, after all you've given up, for me, for Sam... You don't deserve me treating you like I have been. It's just - it's just easier this way."

"Easier what way?" Cas asked, furrowing his brow.

Dean went quiet, looking at the floor. Cas kept staring at him until he finally responded. 

"You know," he mumbled. "I know you do. We've both known, for so long. And it kills me to see your confusion, your hurt when I don't respond. When I've been looking away too quickly, when I've been taking any opportunity not talk directly to you. But it's easier than being what we were, Cas. I couldn't keep leading you on with our gazes and glances, because I knew it would just hurt more when you have to kill me. Hurt you, hurt me. It's too much. It was always going to end in disaster, and I ignored that for too long, pretended because I'm selfish. Because you are so unlike anyone I've ever known, Cas. Because you make my frigging heart race like I'm running a marathon, and you make me feel things I've never felt before with anyone else. But then... Then I got the Mark of Cain. Then I died, became a demon, abandoned you and Sam. Sam cured me, but it was never going to last long, and I knew that. So I had to do it. I had to start putting distance between us, cutting ties. I couldn't keep it up, I couldn't do that to you. But now-"

He sat down on the edge of his bed, putting his face in his hands like Sam had. "Now, well..."

"Now what?" Cas asked slowly, his voice shaky. 

"Cain," Dean answered, his breath growing short. "He said - he said that I would kill you, Cas. I always assumed it would be the other way around, but he said I would and I just-"

His voice suddenly broke off into a quiet gasp. Cas automatically crossed the room and sat down next to the hunter, encasing him in his arms. Dean leant into them, shedding no tears as he propelled occasional sobs into Cas's shoulder. Cas held him, rocking them both, as Dean clutched at his trenchcoat. 

"I couldn't keep ignoring you after that," Dean whispered. "He said I would kill Sammy. You and Sam. I can't - I'm not strong enough, Cas. I'm scared that I'm not strong enough. What if I - if I do?"

"You won't," Cas said, his voice sounding more confident than he felt as he rubbed circles on Dean's back. 

"How do you know that?" Dean demanded angrily. "I feel it, Cas. The Mark - it's screaming at me. Right now. Urging me to kill, to draw blood, to feel it dripping through my fingers. I don't know how much longer I can..."

"You won't," Cas repeated. "Because you never have. You prove everybody wrong every single time. Your father told you that you might be forced to kill Sam, and you didn't. The angels told you to say 'yes' to Michael and to kill Lucifer, killing Sam in the process, and you didn't. And Cain is no different. The Mark makes no difference. You always make your own destiny. You won't kill Sam."

Dean lifted his head from Cas's shoulder, biting his lip. Their faces were so close that Cas could feel Dean's breath caress his skin. 

"What about you?" Dean whispered. "What if I-"

"You won't do that either," Cas said, although he felt less sure this time. "I have faith in you. You won't do anything that you don't want to do. I know that you can resist this, you can fight it. After all that you've done, after all the times that free will has prevailed, I have faith in you. Destiny only has as much worth as we allow it to have. Team Free Will, remember?"

And despite everything, Dean smiled. It was real and genuine and resembling something close to his old self. 

"Yeah. I remember."

His left hand found Cas's, linking his fingers with his. Cas felt the heat of Dean's palm against his skin. 

"I can't be that thing again, Cas," Dean mumbled. "I don't want to."

"Then you won't," Cas said simply. "And if these six years with you have taught me anything, it's that. We'll get through this, just like we have everything else."

Dean leant his forehead against Cas's, closing his tired eyes. 

"So what does this make you?" Dean said, chuckling a little. "My Colette?"

Cas closed his eyes too. Finally, he felt some of the familiar solace that he had been searching for start to trickle back to him. 

"I suppose so."


End file.
